Philippa Ibbotson explores two related issues: the remuneration of orchestra conductors and their contribution to a performance (The myth of the maestro, 7 October). While it is perfectly reasonable to discuss fees for any job, I believe she woefully misunderstands the role of conductors and orchestral musicians.

Having spent 14 years as a cellist in the London Symphony Orchestra, 21 years as its managing director, and the last four years as executive and artistic director of Carnegie Hall, I have been centrally involved with this subject for 39 years.

Ibbotson says that "while orchestras can play unaided, it is helpful if someone can follow a score and beat time clearly", asserting that "music, given players sufficiently accomplished, speaks for itself". Then she says: "Almost the last place you look as a musician is towards the conductor … You look up at the pertinent moments much in the same way that you would check a speedometer while driving."

The reality could not be more different. Among the key skills of top-quality orchestral players is their ability to watch the printed music at the same time as watching the conductor, while also listening to other sections of the orchestra – a sophisticated job of multi-tasking. In addition, performance art that involves a substantial ensemble – be it in the theatre, film, ballet, etc – almost always depends on a singular vision or interpretation if it is to have any real impact on an audience. It is the role of the conductor to create this.

Whether one likes the interpretation or not is another matter, but to say that an important musical experience can be created largely by getting the notes right is meaningless – that would be a mechanical achievement, not an artistic, emotional or inspirational one.

Audiences often ask about the role of a conductor, since he or she is the only person on stage who doesn't make a sound. Most of their work takes place before they ever meet up with an orchestra – studying, exploring and analysing the music, seeking to understand the composer's vision. For the finest conductors, this is a never-ending journey throughout their lives, exemplified by Leonard Bernstein, who, towards the end of his life, threw away all his scores for the Tchaikovsky symphonies in order to study them all over again with minimal preconceptions.

At the orchestra rehearsals the conductor prepares his or her interpretation, but with the great conductors "the performance" only happens at the concert, and it can be different every night. There are many factors that influence how conductors see a piece of music each time they perform it, and their role is to create the performance anew every time.

I once heard a player complain to Bernstein after a performance because he had done something differently from the way that he had rehearsed it. Bernstein asked the player if he wanted an automaton or a musician. Any player who has worked with great conductors knows that what they bring to their performances is the difference between competence and inspiration. It diminishes and completely misunderstands great music-making not to think there is any difference between the two.